


Love Notes: You're Doing it Wrong

by YassHomo



Series: You're Doing it Wrong [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aromatic Jehan, Confessions, Flowers, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gift Giving, Grantaire You Fucking Idiot, Humor, Idiots in Love, Language of Flowers, Love, Love Confessions, Love Letters, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Oblivious, Oblivious Grantaire, Pining, Pining Enjolras, Pining Grantaire, Secret Crush, Well it would be secret if you weren't so fucking obvious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 15:30:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11489301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YassHomo/pseuds/YassHomo
Summary: Roses are red,Irises are blue,You may not know this,But I think I'm in love with you.In which Grantaire has a secret admirer.





	Love Notes: You're Doing it Wrong

_Grantaire- Roses are red,_

_Irises are blue._

_You may not know this,_

_But I think I'm in love with you._

_  
_

The note was taped to the front door of his apartment. As soon as he noticed the small piece of cardboard, he set the bags he had been carrying down on the doormat. Grantaire read it twice, the elegant pale-blue script sprawled across the soft parchment. Bewildered, he re-read the small poem once more. None of it made sense. Grantaire opened the door, awkwardly juggling the groceries into his tiny corner kitchenette, leaving the door ajar and the note on the door. He then carefully removed the note and shut the door, pondering all of the people he knew enjoyed poetry and loved flowers.

 

"Jehan?" Grantaire asked, approaching the short, braided figure hunched over a notebook. 

"Love?" Jehan replied, raising their head in acknowledgment and gestured to an empty seat, which Grantaire took.

"Did you leave this taped to my door?" Grantaire handed them the note, which they inspected. Jehan frowned, then reread it, chewing on their pen thoughtfully.

"No. Though, whoever it is, they have excellent penmanship."

"Do you recognise it?"

"No, dear. The only thing I can tell you is that irises mean hope. This person is obviously rather smitten with you."

"Can we get back to the meeting?" Enjolras asked, voice sharp yet melodic, glaring directly at Grantaire. Despite Enjolras' obvious annoyance, Grantaire couldn't help the sudden rush of giddiness by the attention. Grantaire merely nodded, not trusting his voice, eyes fixed on the blond. Enjolras glanced at Jehan and the letter he was holding, and turned sharply on his heel, quickly continuing the speech he was giving, slight redness creeping into his cheeks.

Enjolras was captivating as usual and Grantaire gave him his full, undivided attention (as usual).

 

***

_  
_

_Poetry has never been one of my strengths, yet I can't help but tell you how brilliant and talented you are, even when lacking the eloquence of rhyming verses. You distracted me for most of yesterday, but in a good way. You're beautiful._

The second note caught him by surprise. Like the first time, the note was sellotaped to the door. The only added feature was the beautiful bouquet of vivid red and white flowers left on the doormat. He carefully picked up the flowers, then noticing the note attached.

_Red carnations mean pride, admiration and beauty. White carnations mean pure love. I hope you like them._

 

"Jehan?"

"Love." Jehan stated, raising an eyebrow. 

"Did you-"

"No, honey."

"They got me flowers this time." Grantaire added, claiming the seat to Jehan's immediate left. This immediately got Jehan's attention.

"That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard. What ones?" They smiled, adjusting the braid draped over their shoulder.

"Red and white carnations."

"Pride, beauty, pure love and admiration. That's actually adorable. Could I see the note, please?"

Jehan read the small note with a growing grin, which meant one thing; they knew something. They beamed at Grantaire.

"So... Who do you think it is?"

"You're kidding." Jehan's eyes widened, face sobering quickly.

"... No?"

"Grantaire, dear, I love you deeply. Beyond words and beyond compare. But sometimes you are so oblivious it makes me want to bash your head against a wall."

"Jesus, thanks Jehan."

"Grantaire, honey, who do you think is a big enough nerd to use the word 'eloquence' in a love note?"

 

"Combeferre?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know anything about this?" Grantaire asked, holding out the note. Combeferre barely glanced at it before chewing on his lower lip, obviously in deep thought. His eyes were directed to the ceiling.

" _Maybe_ you should ask Enjolras." Combeferre finally stated, voice obviously hinting (strongly) at something.

"I don't think Enjolras would know anything about this, though." Grantaire frowned, which caused Combeferre to sigh loudly.

"I _really_ think that Enjolras _will_ know something about these notes." Combeferre replied, voice heavy with implication. He then returned to the screen of his laptop, an obvious dismissal.

 

***

 

There was a small part of Grantaire that hoped it would be Enjolras. Even if the logical part of his mind knew that the stoic leader thought nothing but resentment or scorn for Grantaire, it didn't stop him from hoping. 

Even if it was impossible.

Chances were, it was (a strongly aromatic) Jehan wanting to cheer him up, a joke from Courfeyrac, or a misinterpreted attempt from Marius to try and get Grantaire to socialize with him and the rest of the group more.

 

***

 

_I love your artwork. You're amazingly talented, and I hope you know that. Sometimes it feels as though it physically hurts when you put yourself down. You're just amazing. Don't put yourself down._

_  
_

"Jehan."

"Love."

"Do you know who-"

"Grantaire, sweetheart, I love you and this is why I am going to tell you this. I know exactly who is writing these notes. Even Marius does, and that means you have reached a point of agonising obliviousness."

"Thanks, Jehan."

"You're welcome. Just go and talk to Enjolras after this meeting. Please." Jehan quickly added. 

 

After the meeting was over, Grantaire hung back, ignoring the knowing looks both Jehan and Combeferre wore. Enjolras also stayed behind, though purely by coincidence. He shuffled through his paperwork, seemingly unaware of Grantaire's presence, or the fact that Grantaire was watching him intently. Finally, as though he felt someone watch him, he glanced up, expression startled and surprisingly sheepish. He quickly forced his face back to impassive.

"Grantaire." Enjolras stated, almost calculating. His face seemed carefully blank. Grantaire resisted the urge to squirm under the intense look that Enjolras was giving him, but somehow managed to stay still under the scrutiny.

"I wanted to ask you something." Grantaire's voice was equally careful. He was more than aware of the almost suffocating tension building.

"Go ahead."

"Do you know anything about these notes I've been getting?"

"Yes." Enjolras replied simply, stuffing the paperwork into his satchel. His voice was more strained. He now wore a visible blush.

"Can you tell me who wrote them?"

Without a word, Enjolras pulled out a pen and a scrap of paper. He quickly scrawled a few random letters. Grantaire immediately recognised the pale ink and elegant loops above the 'h' and below the 'g'.

"Wait. _You_?"

"Grantaire, I understand that you do not reciprocate my... feelings, so if I'm making you uncomfortable-" Enjolras quickly rushed, crumpling up the paper and placing the pen back in his pocket.

"No, you're not. It's just  _you_."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Jesus, Enjolras. You're just  _you,_ there's no actual way to describe you. The only word that comes close is perfect."

"Wait, what? I thought you hate- didn't like me." Enjolras frowned.

" _What_? Why the hell would you think that?!"

"You're always glaring at me."

"I'm not glaring at you." Grantaire immediately responded, bewildered.

"Oh.  _Oh._  That was a _strong_ miscalculation on my behalf.Combeferre was right, I am a total idiot. Does this mean you'd go on a date with me?" Enjolras' voice was laced with an endearingly sheepish and hopeful tone.

" _Yes, definitely_."

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I'm planning on making 'You're doing it wrong' a series, so anyone have any suggestions?
> 
> Comments, bookmarks & Kudos are all valued beyond measure :)


End file.
